


Your Sins Will Find You Out

by psychotic_fangirl369



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Chores, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin Has Magic (Merlin), Merlin uses magic to do his chores, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Arthur, while he's alseep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotic_fangirl369/pseuds/psychotic_fangirl369
Summary: "His clothes were folding themselves and returning to their place in the wardrobe and his armour was being polished by a floating cloth. And in the centre of all of it, sprawled out on his bed and snoring away, was Merlin."Or Arthur walks into his room to find Merlin asleep and using magic to do his chores.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 395





	Your Sins Will Find You Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you all had a good Christmas. Here is another little magic reveal fic. I hope you enjoy it.

Merlin often imagined Arthur learning about his magic. He thought that perhaps, one day, he’d be brave enough to tell him. Or maybe Arthur would see him using his magic in battle. Or put two and two together when yet another magical threat that can only be defeated by magic miraculously is conquered. Merlin liked to dream that Arthur would be surprised - maybe a little angry - but that all in all he would accept Merlin, knowing in his heart that Merlin was his friend and that he was still the same, bumbling idiot Arthur knew him to be, just a little bit _more_ than Arthur had originally known.

On his darker days, Merlin would imagine that Arthur didn’t react well at all. He’d imagine Arthur shouting at him, his face red with anger and his eyes filled with hatred. He’d imagine Arthur using his sword to strike him down right then and there. Or maybe having the guards drag him to the dungeons where he would wait for the pyre to be constructed. Merlin never let himself think about the actual burning - he had done that enough as a child, petrified of being discovered and burnt alive. Sometimes, Merlin would think about the way Arthur would look at him with such hatred and betrayal and disgust before ordering his execution.

The thought of Arthur turning his back on him - of hating him and ordering him dead - were thoughts Merlin tried not to think about all too often. He preferred, instead, to hope for banishment, if Arthur reacted badly. At least if he was banished, he could hide and use his magic to protect Arthur still. If he was dead… well, who knows how long Arthur would last without him.

Then Uther was sick and dying and Merlin had thought that this was his chance. He would heal Uther, Arthur would see the good in magic and he could confess to his friend with most likely the first option being Arthur’s reaction. He would finally be able to stand before Arthur with his secrets laid bare - except for the fact that Merlin was in love with him, of course - but then things went wrong and Uther died and Arthur told Merlin how all magic is evil and he would never lose sight of that again and Merlin knew that if Arthur ever found out, it would be the pyre for him.

So Merlin did what he had always done and continued lying and hiding and pretending that everything was okay when it really wasn’t. But it didn’t stop him from dreaming of a life where Arthur knew of his magic and didn’t hate him.

Which is why, when Arthur _did_ find out about his magic, it was a bit of a let down. All these years, dreaming of how Arthur would one day know the truth, and it happened when Merlin was asleep.

*****

Arthur sighed to himself as he strode through the castle towards his chambers. The council meeting had been exhausting and he was looking forward to a nice, hot bath. Hopefully Merlin, the useless idiot that he was, would have taken the inititiive to prepare a bath. Not that Arthur would ever say it to Merlin’s face, but his pathetic excuse of a manservant was actually pretty decent at his job. He always seemed to know what Arthur would need before Arthur himself knew. And he had never met anyone more loyal or brave than Merlin. He smiled to himself as he reached his chambers. Merlin was a great friend, even if Arthur rarely told the boy this. He hated to think what his life would be like if Uther hadn’t made Merlin his manservant all those years ago.

He pushed open the door to his chambers. “ _Mer_ lin, are you in here-“ he stopped abruptly. He stared at the scene before him for a second, before hurriedly closing his door and locking it so that no one else could come in. Then he surveyed the scene. Before him was one of the strangest things he had ever seen. The fire was roaring lively and beside it was the bathtub. Buckets of water were being poured into the tub as they floated _by themselves in the air._ Magic. The buckets continued tipping the water into the bath as beside them, Arthur’s swords were busy being polished and sharpened, once again by magic. Further across the room, a duster was dancing through the air between his furniture, polishing away. A mop was scrubbing the floor by the window, dipping itself into a bucket of water before returning to its job. His papers on his desk were organising themselves, hovering in the air as they divided into piles. His clothes were folding themselves and returning to their place in the wardrobe and his armour was being polished by a floating cloth. And in the centre of all of it, sprawled out on his bed and snoring away, was Merlin.

Arthur stared. And stared. And stared. There was only one logical conclusion. Merlin - his idiot of a best friend and manservant - was using magic _in his sleep_ to complete his chores. Arthur blinked slowly. He had begun to think for sometime now that magic wasn’t completely evil. He didn’t trust it, no sir. But he didn’t think everyone who used it could possibly be evil. This conviction had slipped when his father died, but it had been the grief and anger and sorrow that had made him say those things to Merlin. And _oh._ He felt himself pale. He had told Merlin that all magic was evil and couldn’t be trusted. _Merlin._ Who was currently using magic for _chores_ of all things. Merlin, who had been by his side for years, loyal to a fault. Merlin, who would follow Arthur to the ends of the earth if the king dared ask him too. Merlin, who had more than once saved his life. Who had no doubt _used his magic_ to save Arthur’s life hundreds of times without Arthur knowing. Merlin, who he trusted more than anyone on this earth, who had lied to him for years, who had betrayed his trust and concorted with a crime worthy of execution. Merlin, who would never hurt Arthur, magic or not. Merlin, who didn’t have an evil bone in his body. _Merlin, Merlin, Merlin._

Arthur looked around at his room once more. He was angry, yes. But not about the magic. He was angry about the lies. About the lack of trust. He was angry that his best friend hadn’t trusted him enough to _tell him._ But then he thought about the things he had said to Merlin about magic and he knew that he was to blame for that. He had never given Merlin any idea that he _could_ tell him. But why. Why had Merlin chosen to learn magic in the first place? And what had he used it for over the years? So many questions. So many things he wanted to know. But now was not the time. Arthur felt another surge of anger - not at Merlin, but at himself. Such fear Merlin must have lived with. The constant executions of people like him. The constant talk of hatred and disgust towards people like him. The constant banishing and tormenting and hatred towards anyone or anything that had so much as breathed in the presence of magic. And yet Merlin had stayed. He had stayed and served and suffered. What was it he had said? _I’m happy to be your servant. Until the day I die._ And Arthur felt sick. Because Merlin had no doubt thought that he would die. Most likely by Uther’s hand or by orders from Arthur himself. And yet Merlin had stayed.

He was using magic for chores.

He wasn’t evil.

He was good.

Kind.

Loyal.

Innocent.

_Magic._

And Arthur still trusted him with his life.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur walked towards his bed, ducking under his floating armour and dodging the mop which had steadily gotten closer and closer to him. He sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at Merlin’s sleeping face. He smiled. Yes, he was angry and confused and hurt. But this was _Merlin._ Everything would be okay. He just had to trust Merlin, like he had always done. And he needed to let his friend know that _it was okay._

He reached out and poked Merlin’s shoulder lightly. “Merlin,” he said.

Merlin stirred, smacking his lips together, but he didn’t awake.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur tried again, shaking his shoulder.

Merlin blinked his eyes open. “A’thur?” he murmured sleepily. Then his eyes widened and he sat up quickly as his face paled.

Arthur heard a clang - no doubt all his armour and the buckets and the mop falling to the ground - but Arthur didn’t look away from Merlin. Merlin, whose eyes had flashed gold a second before the bang as the magic in the room stopped. Merlin, who looked like he was about to be sick and who was as pale as snow and who was starting to ramble.

“Arthur, sire, I can explain!” Merlin stumbled out, his eyes wide with _such fear_ that Arthur wanted to hug him.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, before his terrified manservant could say anything else. “Merlin, it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin babbled, not seeming to have heard Arthur. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, gods, please don’t burn me. Anything but that. Please don’t burn me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Arthur, please. _Please._ ”

Arthur felt sick. He reached out and took Merlin’s hands in his. Merlin was crying now, shaking and gasping and he kept saying “I’m sorry” over and over again.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, and Merlin stopped talking, hiccuping lightly as he started at Arthur. “Merlin,” Arthur repeated, softer this time. “ _It’s okay._ ”

Merlin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” he asked, barely a whisper.

Arthur smiled and reached out with one hand to wipe the tears from Merlin’s face. “It’s okay,” he repeated for a third time. “You’re okay. I _trust_ you. I accept you. I accept your magic.”

Merlin stared at him with mouth and eyes wide open. Then he shut his mouth and sniffed. Arthur continued wiping the last few stray tears from Merlin’s face.

“You don’t hate me?” Merlin asked in a small voice.

“I could _never_ hate you,” Arthur said forcefully. “Never.”

Merlin sniffed again. “You won’t execute me?”

Arthur shook his head determinedly. “Nothing you have done or could ever do could ever make me kill you. You’re my best friend. You’re my servant. And I _need_ you.”

Merlin took a trembling breath and slowly reached out with one hand to let his fingers trail along Arthur’s cheek. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed contently. They stayed like that for a few moments, each with a hand on the others face, before Arthur opened his eyes.

Merlin was looking at him and he no longer looked scared. His face was red from crying and his eyes looked puffy, but he was smiling slightly. Small and unsure.

“You…” Merlin trailed off. Then he took a deep breath. “You should know everything I have done. I should… I should tell you everything.”

Arthur reached up with the hand that wasn’t on Merlin’s face, to cover Merlin’s hand with his own. He turned his head slightly and pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of Merlin’s wrist. He felt his manservant shiver.

“You will tell me everything,” Arthur said softly, meeting Merlin’s gaze. “We have a lot of long conversations ahead of us. But that can wait. Right now, Merlin, I just want you to know that you will never need to hide who you are again. Or live in fear of being discovered and punished for simply existing. I promise you that. I’ll make sure of it.”

Merlin’s eyes grew watery again. “Thank you, sire. Arthur. _Thank you.”_

Arthur leant forward and pressed his forehead against Merlin’s. “Do you think you could heat up the bath for me?” he asked teasingly, trying to bring a smile on Merlin’s face, tp push away all the fear and shock.

Merlin snorted. “I might be persuaded.”

“Oh?”

Merlin smirked playfully and it felt so good to see him look like his usual, happy self, when only a few minutes ago he was begging Arthur not to burn him. “I think a kiss might persuade me to help you in your plight for a warm bath.”

Arthur stared at him. Merlin’s playful expression slowly grew unsure, as though he suddenly realised that he may have crossed a line. So Arthur smiled and brushed his nose against Merlin’s.

“I suppose,” he said, as though he was about to partake in a great hardship, “that I would be willing to oblige. For the sake of having a hot bath, of course.”

“Of course,” Merlin repeated, his voice so soft and his breath brushing against Arthur’s lips as he spoke.

Then Arthur moved even closer and brushed his lips against Merlin’s. The kissed lightly for a few moments, before pulling away. Merlin smiled at him, still a bit shakily, but more like his usually self. Then he held out a hand towards the bath, but kept his eyes fixed on Arthur.

“Onhǽte þá wæter,” he whispered, his eyes flashing gold.

Arthur stared into those gold irises and thought to himself that he had never seen anything more beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
